A well Hidden secret
by sevenofmine
Summary: Alex is summoned to NCIS HQ as suspect of a US-marine murder. His DNA shows a 45%-match indicating that a relative of him must somehow be involved. But there aren't any family members of Alex alive any more, are they? What bloody and very personal secret has Blunt kept during the last years? Sooner than he thinks he's again a target of revenge and confronted with his former life...
1. Charged

**Here we go: Again Alex meets our NCIS team. I have already written two crossovers, called 'A dangerous girlfriend' featuring Ari's daughter and Yassen; and 'A New Life' with Alex trying to tackle his life after Scorpia Rising and meeting Yassen's daughter.**

**Don't forget to review and wait for continuation.**

Chapter 1

"What's up?" Gibbs asked when he entered Abby's lab.

"I found a match...two matches but none with a 100%" the forensic scientist answered and Gibbs looked at the computer screen. "The first one is called Ian Rider, he was found in MI6 data bank and he was a spy."

"He was?" the boss asked.

"He died two years ago."

"Ah..."

"The second one is his nephew, Alex Rider. I don't know why he's in the data bank, too. He has a 45% match, Ian only 40."

"How comes?"

"It must be a very far away relative," she said.

"Like?"

"Like a cousin of Alex or half-brother of Ian," Abby informed.

Gibbs nodded. "Find something out about that Alex," he ordered and turned to go but stopped when glancing at Abby. He smiled, "tell me."

"Alex Rider, goes to Washington High, senior year, makes graduation next April. He grew up in London with his uncle and passed away householder Jack Starbright. After the death of Ian and one year later Jack, he moved to San Francisco with his friend Sabina Pleasure and her parents.

But his school marks went down since then and he caused come trouble for being very violent but introverted. They sent him to another foster family in New York. In that school, he didn't make any friends and finally beat up his sister-in-law and therefore was brought to an orphanage here in Washington. Somehow, somebody cared that he was always brought to another city."

"And now a relative of him appears here in DC, too, as our possible murder to Director Vance," Gibbs sighed.

"Find out more, Abs." Before she could answer he already left the cellar lab.

* * *

It felt good for me to walk over the bodies. I haven't been able to do something like that for ages. The whole family, Sabina and her parents, were scattered on the floor, well, the parts of their bodies were scattered. Blood was sprayed everywhere, it was a massacre, wherever I looked was deadly red.

I grab the bottles and spill the concentrated alcohol everywhere. It's a big house and very lonely outside of San Francisco and I hope it burns fast enough. When I go out, I search the lighter.

That's the problem when you don't smoke, never having a fire lighter when you need one. I find it, light the alcohol trace and throw it away where it explodes with a silent 'bang'. Without turning around, I walk down the stairs and already smell the burning air.

I'd like to stay here for watching the bodies burn, but I don't have time. I need to return to DC, it's time for Alex to find out some more truth. I step on my motor bike and head off towards downtown.

* * *

Alex had not the faintest idea why he was invited to NCIS headquarters when he entered the huge building. He spent some time in conference room before a female agent led him to interrogation room where he waited for another twenty minutes, all knowing of course that the special agents were watching him through the one-side-mirror.

Finally, a grey-haired man entered the room, another agent, younger, brown hair, followed and closed the door. He stood behind him and the first agent sat down.

"I'm Special Agent Gibbs. You know why you're here?"

"Nobody told me anything. But I guess I'm a suspect for something" Alex answered with his British accent but remembered that his days as spy were over.

"Any idea?"

"No."

"Have you ever seen this man?" the agent asked and showed him the photo of a crime scene. It showed a man in marine uniform, his neck cut open.

"Never."

"He's found dead a day ago."

"I see. But I'm no hit man."

"How do you know it was a hit man who killed him?" the agent asked surprised.

Alex cursed himself for being too smart about such things. It was something he really knew, killing, betraying, espionage. "The neck is cut very professionally. Hardly blood spread and he didn't struggle or anything. It was a profi killer. It's obvious."

The special agent took his time to think about that prompt answer of the seventeen year old boy. "You seem to know a lot about it. Playing killer-games or watching too much TV?"

"No..."

"I've read in your files that you'd caused some trouble...ever killed, Alex?"

Pictures shot through Alex's head. Pictures of himself lying on the ground, full of blood, mixing with pouring rain. It was in Egypt and it was night. He walked away, turned around and shot. He'll never forget. "No, sir. Especially not that naval officer. May I go now? I don't even have any idea why you're suspecting me."

"We found your DNA on crime scene," the agent from behind said and walked between them. He took out another piece of paper of the file and showed Alex the test results. "A match of 45%," Alex figured out fast.

"Yeah, but still enough to having you invited here. Any family members we should know of?"

"My uncle and parents are dead."

"Why is your DNA in the data bank? You're uncle worked in a bank, we found his DNA in British Secret Service files."

"I don't know," Alex said and tried to look honest. They stared in each other's eye for a while and then special agent Gibbs nodded. Alex stood up, nodded back and left the room and the office, still wondering what family member Alan Blunt has still not told him about. Time to make a phone call.

* * *

"Alex, it has been some time since e last talked...since you moved to Washington," Mr. Blunt says in his typical, not very human like voice. It seemed he spent too much time behind his desk in his office in isolation from the outside-world. "How are you?"

"NCIS just interrogated me. You should tell me if you plan something."

"We're not planning anything, Alex. What did NCIS want?"

"They found a 45%-DNA-match at the death scene of a naval officer. Anything I should know?" Alex asked neutrally. He needed to get to the point.

A long pause followed where Mr. Blunt said nothing. Perhaps he researched or just sat in his chair and thought about a possibility, none came to his mind. "This is impossible," he finally concluded.

"Tell me something I don't know," Alex muttered.

"No, this is not what I meant...Mrs. Jones is currently on East Coast, too. Go home to the orphanage, at eight pm there'll be a car waiting for you there. Until then, don't leave the house, you understood me, Alex?"

"Yes," was the answer of the eye-rolling teenager. Alex has gone through too much to be scared of anything anymore. He's seen people dying, he's seen friends dying, he has shot enemies in self-defence, he has shot himself, his own clone Julius Grief, the evil twin-version of Alex.

Alex put the mobile back into his pocket and took the next tube back to downtown. He didn't know that he was being watched during every step.

**Please review. This is my third Alex Rider/ NCIS crossover and I hope it shouldn't be my last one... So please tell me what you think about it :)**


	2. The Gentleman

**Listen to both "Blame" by Transluszent D and the opening song of Casino Royale while reading ;D (I can't get enough of Bond music these days^^ Yesterday watched The Living Daylights for the first time...)**

**Chapter 2**

"What do we have?" Gibbs asked when he entered the office with a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Something strange," Tony mentioned. "I just got a phone from the dead marine's wife. She received flowers this morning."

"And?"

"And this," Ziva said and put the file of an unknown man on the screen. "He's called The Gentleman. A high profile assassinator who's famous for sending flowers to his victim's family."

Gibbs nodded and sipped his coffee.

Tony's phone rang and shortly after it he explained: "We found the client at least. It was the husband of the love affair of our marine. McGee just arrested him. Case solved."

"No. You still haven't caught The Gentleman and explained how a relative of this Alex Rider appeared," Gibbs said and noticed a woman quitting the elevator. She caught their interest by stopping in front of their 'office'.

"Are you Special Agent Gibbs?" she asked and the boss nodded, seeing the visitor's badge.

"My name is Agent Jones. I'm from British MI6, department of special operations. I heard about the death of Admiral Conner and about a suspect," she explained.

"Yes. A 45%-suspect. How do you know about this?" Gibbs asked surprised.

"This is not of importance. What else did you find out?" she asked directly.

Amazed, Gibbs took his time to start: "The marine's death was ordered by the husband of his love affair. The killer is known as 'The Gentleman'...you know him?"

"At MI6, we've heard of him in several occasions...What about Alex Rider's match?"

"A relative of him must have been at crime scene. You know him?"

"Yes. The case of the two assassinators is now concern of MI6. Your director has already been informed. Your part of this case is solved."

"And you came here to tell us this?"

"Yes."

"Then allow me one more question."

"I'm listening," Mrs. Jones answered.

"Why is the DNA of a seventeen year old boy in your data bank?"

"His father and uncle were our agents."

"His uncle worked for a bank."

"This must have been a mistake in the files then."

"And why is Alex in the date banks?"

"I told you, because of these relatives," she answered shortly, nodded to them and then walked back to the elevator.

"Ah, we'll find out more, boss" Tony said and he and Ziva headed back to their desks while Gibbs was still staring at the lift doors closing. He emptied his coffee, looked up where he spotted Vance watching him, threw his paper cup in the basket and sat down at his own desk.

"I have a bad feeling about this," he muttered. "God. I need more coffee. Tony, you drive to the orphanage and wait for Alex to turn up. You'll watch him for this whole night, okay? Ziva's gonna take over at mid night. I want you to watch, not to intervene at any circumstances. You understood me?"

"Acknowledged, boss" Tony answered already grabbing his gear.

It is a dark night when I step out of the black inconspicuous car. I close the door and lock it. I pull the hood of my pullover deep down my face and pass the bright street lamp. I'm flitting up the stairs and see the lock already been damaged. I pull out my gun and carefully open the door. Slowly I walk through the black corridor while my eyes get used to the darkness. I hear a noise and look around.

Upstairs, I think and take the stairs on the left to me. I tip-toe hoping that the stairs don't creak. I enter another floor and recognize the bare light of a night lamp shining through a half-closed door at the end of the hall. I walk on and fully open the door.

I see a shillouette standing next to a man lying in his bed. Blood trickles down on the floor. "I think they could use a new carpet," I say and the shillouette of the man turns around quickly. He points his gun at me and I see his face. He must be in his mid-thirties, he's tall, muscular and handsome with his dark brown hair but blue eyes.

"Who are you?" he asks and his voice isn't nervous but annoyed.

"No need to worry," I answer and put away my gun again. My eyes are fixed on the body and I come closer to have a look into the person's face. I see the fear in the marine's eyes and smile. I sense the gun still pointed at me.

"I have an offer to make," I start and turn back to the assassin.

"What kind of an offer?" he asks.

I wait, staring at the weapon. Finally, he decides that I'm no danger and puts it away. He examines me, trying to guess if I'm just tired of life or really worth listening to.

"Do you remember the name Desmond McCain?" I ask calmly.

He shrugs with his shoulders.

"One of your clients. He told you to kill two people. A boxer and a plastic surgeon."

"I've had a lot of clients."

"Okay, two more people: Michael Roscoe and Sam Green."

"What do you want?" he asks me annoyed.

I smile at him. "Desmond McCain died about one and a half year ago. Dr. Grief, who you killed those last two persons for, was killed two years ago."

"By the same person, I assume."

I nod. "McCain has a son. And he's full of hatred toward this person. He wants revenge."

"You want me to eliminate this person?"

"I think we shouldn't talk here, should we? I can bring you to Ryan McCain if you're interested."

He nods and I walk past him to leave the building. Ryan told me his father has spoken very highly of The Gentleman. And in some circles he enjoys a certain reputation. Let's see what he's capable of.

**Review, please ;)**


	3. The Task

**Here the next chap... **

**Chapter 3**

At exactly eight pm a car with dark window glasses halted in front of the orphanage. Alex sighed when he stepped out into the rainy afternoon. He ran over to the car and the door was already opened from inside. He stepped in and the car started driving. He recognized Mrs. Jones sitting in front of him.

Smilingly she asked: "How do you do, Alex?"

"What is this all about?" Alex paid back directly.

"Let's wait with explanations until we arrive somewhere more safe," she answered and leaned back.

Alex looked out of the window, not interested in how and why but in the fact what Blunt and Jones held back from him this time.

They drove for about twenty minutes before they entered a huge parking lot somewhere outside of Washington's downtown. Neither the driver, nor Jones or Alex noticed that they were followed by special agent DiNozzo the whole time.

* * *

I lead The Gentleman into through the bar. It is late night and all kind of guys and nuts are hanging around here. We go down the staircase until we arrive at another door.

I nod to the bodyguard who unlocks it and lets us pass. We arrive in a small room with a roulette table in the middle and a bar at the end. On the left there are two couches and a small table.

Ryan already awaited us, he knew I was successful in persuading the hatchet man to listen to him. He pours in three glasses with some Scotch, his preferred liquid. I hate it, it tastes awful but he never cares.

The Gentleman sits down on the opposite side and I sit down next to Ryan.

"My name is Ryan McCain," the dark-skinned, twenty-five year old man started.

He was already bald, but muscular and had like nothing in common with his father but the skin and his grey eyes. You didn't need to look twice to see the anger and hatred in his eyes and define him as a very violent, brutal and cruel man with no respect or limits.

"So I was told," the assassin answers in expectation.

"I've heard much about you. My father spoke very highly about your skill."

"You have a task for me?" he asks directly and I would love to smile. But I don't. I like him, he's very direct and a profi in his profession. The public authorities know nothing about him and that's something to admire. Especially for a person like me who has been on the radar and under surveillance for the whole life. Until I broke out.

"I want you to kill someone."

"That's what I am for."

"It will be difficult."

"I don't care. As long as the price is correct."

Ryan sips his Scotch. Price is no problem for him. Even after his father died, most of his money hasn't been found and now was his.

"500.000 US Dollar for the killing of a seventeen-years old school boy. Sounds fair?"

"It does," The Gentleman says but looks a bit confused. So he adds: "A school boy? That's who killed your father?"

I see his lips curl in anger. Ryan doesn't like to be humiliated and anybody else he would have thrown against the next wall. But he need the assassin. I offered myself to do it but he denied. I would love to kill Alex and when he fails, I'll take over.

"Yes. And he killed a lot of other people. But this isn't your business. Kill Alex Rider. But leave his body intact. As soon as I read the official Autopsy report of MI6 I'll pay you."

"Autopsy report of MI6?" he asks surprised.

"Not your matter. Just kill the boy...but I shall warn you. He's not easy to kill," Ryan says and raises his dark eyebrows.

I don't know what The Gentleman thinks but he nods. "He'll be dead within two days," he says and stands up. He leaves the room and the door shuts again.

"I want you to stay with me until Alex is dead," Ryan says and puts his arm around my waist.

"I wanted to kill Alex," I hiss and stare at the empty seat of the couch in front of us.

"I know. But it is too dangerous. MI6 is hunting you madly. They suspect you turning up near to Alex."

"They should. It is something personal between us and I need to see the life leaving his eyes," I whisper.

His hand glides through my hair and puts it back behind my ear. "It is also something personal between Alex and me. But it is better to let it do The Gentleman. He's efficient and he'll succeed."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"And why isn't Alex already dead then?" I ask and look at the man. His cruel eyes stare down at me and pure hatred is forming his words.

"My father underestimated Alex. I won't," he answers strongly and his voice is now full of the wish of seeing death. "But he'll pay for what he has done," he adds and grabs my chin. His big hand is squashing my face and slowly he pushes me down on the couch. "And then Alex Rider will be history," he hisses and starts kissing me while pressing his enormous body onto me.

**A very short chapter but therefore directly the next one follows :)**


	4. The Truth

**Chapter 4**

"There has been something we haven't told you yet," Mrs. Jones started. They sat in the office of the DC-version of MI6 headquarters.

"Would have never guessed that," Alex answered ironically.

She just sighs and pulls out a thick file of the draw. "Alex, come closer," she says and he nears to the desk. "You know that sixteen years ago Julia Rothman ordered the killing of your father leading to the plane crash in which your parents both died."

Alex nodded, suddenly in interest.

"Seventeen years ago, your father couldn't attend your birth because he was on a mission in India. These are his mission files," she showed him some copied papers indicating a special MI6 mission. "Your father was undercover in a secret cell of arm trade terrorists where he worked for a man called Avani Anjali.

During his time as an arms trader, he met Anjali's girlfriend Natasha Sedov who later turned out to be a Russian spy. Shortly after your birth, we managed to arrest fifty-seven arms traders, including Anjali. Natasha escaped to Russia but shortly after was captured in Germany and charged with espionage because she sold stolen information about MI6."

Mrs. Jones sighed heavily before continuing. "She was a very dangerous and well-trained spy, and also the daughter of a former KGB director. She was found guilty and brought to a prison in Alaska. CIA and MI6 cooperated during her trial, she was also accused to having spied on the Americans.

But, two months later it turned out she was pregnant. Mr. Blunt himself visited her those days. You can't imagine the prisoner's conditions. It was gaol for the most dangerous people and she was the only woman there. However, in eighth month of her pregnancy her health got worse and she was brought to hospital in London when I first time met her.

She was a cruel woman, full of hatred and disgust. However, she became stable again and returned to the prison in Alaska. It was something CIA ordered and we would have never allowed a pregnant woman to go into such a jailhouse.

A month later she bore the child in the prison in Alaska but we ran a DNA-diagnostic so that we could be sure it was Anjali's child and not one of the prisoners... But it all came different: The DNA matched to your father's sample."

Alex looked up suddenly. He saw the grief and sadness in Mrs. Jones eyes, she felt sorry for him. "You want to say, my father slept with his woman?"

She nodded. "He was on an undercover mission and he needed to find out anything about Anjali."

"He was a married man. His wife was pregnant...with me!" Alex shouted. He couldn't believe it. Was Mrs. Jones really saying that they kept secretive that he had a sister all the time? No, impossible.

"May I go on?" she asked and he sat down again, nodded.

"You can't imagine what happened over there in America. The jailhouse is in the coldest region of Alaska where only the damned and most cruel, violent criminals are stored, waiting for a chance to die. And right there, a child was born.

The child of one of our agents. We explained the situation to your father and he reacted like you. He feared that his marriage could broke. So we promised that his child would never appear again. He knew it was the best for her to never know who was her father."

"Her?"

"Natasha bore a little daughter...However, we sent her and her child to a CIA labour camp in North Canada. We expected her to die and the guards should care for the child. Actually, we thought she would die within days as well..."

"You wanted to kill my father's daughter?" Alex screamed all of sudden and jumped up of his chair again. Mrs. Jones regarded him all calmly.

She did it again, they betrayed him. They had betrayed and lied to him all the time. They used him and denied him the truth. He wanted to run out, kill Mrs. Jones, do whatever, but not be here in the room with this person of a woman.

"She was unwanted. She was the daughter of a Russian spy and a British agent. This would have caused trouble for your father when the Russians would have found out. So we condemned them to perfect isolation from the world. But the daughter survived and grew up in Canada.

As soon as she was old enough to walk stably they made her work as well. We received reports every month and watched her growing up. When she became ten, her mother died from overworking and the coldness. She has been pregnant at those days again, from another inmate.

Both died and the little girl was on her own in a jailhouse, cramped with the most dangerous mobsters of the world. Reading this file it's no surprise what she became...

Her last psychological report showed her as above-average intelligent, she can be charming to psychologists but she also shows psychopathic features. Once in a fight in the prison, she beat up two mean to hospital, one of them died due to his wounds three hours later.

She was put into an isolation cell for three months but it didn't change her attitude. So CIA, who still had some rights on her because her mother had violated American laws, decided to send her back to Alaska where she was born. She made quickly friends there and I had the pleasure to visit her about two years ago, shortly after your Skeleton Key adventure," she explained.

Alex could see that this meeting has left some marks on her. Meeting the unwanted daughter of one of her agents, he couldn't think about, especially as she seemed to be much like her mother. "What happened then?" he asked, knowing more than enough details to imagine his half-sister.

"Two months ago she escaped."

"From this prison in Alaska?"

"Exactly. There has never been a jailbreak before. Here you see a photo of the prison. It's in the middle of an ice desert with high walls and more than enough guards night and day. Riots are order of the day and the look-outs are armed.

But one day, she suddenly wasn't there anymore. Since then, she's wanted by nearly every secret service in America and Europe. We've been searching her thoroughly but you know, officially she doesn't even exist so we were very limited. And now—"

"And now she appears at a crime scene here in Washington," Alex finished the sentence.

Mrs. Jones nodded. "I visited NCIS this afternoon. They said they solved the case but a hit man was involved. He's know as The Gentleman. You've heard of him. He was involved in your Point Blanc mission and with Desmond McCain."

Alex thought about it and then shrugged. "May be. Do you think she hired The Gentleman to kill me?" he asked.

"Mr. Blunt thinks so and I regard it as a possibility as well," Mrs. Jones admitted.

"Wouldn't she want to kill me personally?" Alex asked surprised. His clone had already wanted his death, being obsessed with him. Now, a cruel, violent and knowing-no-borders half-sister appeared and didn't want to at least meet him? No...

"I don't know, Alex. But you'll get some bodyguards. Just shadows who watch you night and day until we either know where she is or we're sure that she's out of the country again, okay?"

Alex nodded lightly. This was much information. "Can I...can I see a picture of Natasha and her daughter?" he then asked suddenly. He didn't know why, but he was somehow interested in this.

"Of course, here, this is Natasha Sedov...Alex, promise me one thing," she looked into his eyes and he felt immediately x-rayed. "She is very dangerous and neither knows pain nor pity. Don't try to look for her, don't bring yourself into more trouble than you're already in. We try to guarantee you a safe life and you shouldn't ruin it all, okay? Do not search her!"

Alex nodded. "I'll double your guards to make sure you only go where you need to go. Alex, not only I am worried. Mr. Blunt is, too." She pulled out another picture. "This one was made three months ago," she explained and gave it to him.

He stared at it for a long time. It showed a seventeen year old girl who rather looked like twenty at least. She was very thin, a bit like a skeleton and the tan skin was tightly stretched over her bones.

You could see very dominant arm and neck muscles and she wore a dark blue, dirty overall which didn't seem to be warm enough for Alaska.

Her jaws were was very small and you could see every single bone and her cheekbones were distinctive. She had the same nose like her mother but her thin lips reminded Alex on his own. Her dark blue eyes looked cold and without any emotion.

She had dark brown hair like Alex' father which was a bit curly and reached down nearly to her breasts. Her shoulders weren't wide and she didn't seem like a very dominant, cruel person who could survive a hardcore prison with the most dangerous men of the world.

"Don't underestimate her, Alex. She's not what she looks like," Mrs. Jones mutters in advise and concernedly look at him.

"I won't do anything stupid. I promise. When she comes to me, then she comes. And I'll be prepared," he answered.

But he doubted he would ever meet her. Someone who's been in prison for her whole life and then escaped, had much better things to do than kill one's sibling. That she appeared in Washington made him clear, that she wanted to observe him. May she, he thought and looked back at the agent.

"May I go back to the orphanage, now? I'm not allow to stay longer away than midnight," he explained and she nodded.

"Marc will drive you home," she said and Alex walked out of the door, where seventy-year-old-but-still-in-duty senior agent Marc waited for him.

**Please review.**


	5. Alaska Prison

**A little flash-back chapter...**

**Chapter 5**

Mrs. Jones was lucky to have chosen this career. She liked it most of times but to everything that you like, there matches something you don't like. And this definitely was one of it. She hadn't feel alright already when Mr. Blunt told her about this task.

She had asked him if he couldn't do this, asking things like that was very rare and he would have liked to, but couldn't. Mrs. Jones felt like running back to the plane as soon as her feet touched American soil. She saw the white mountains far away and through the windy air she fought her way to the shuttle bus which brought her to the building of the airport.

She was somewhere in Northwest of Alaska now. It was about minus twenty degrees centigrade which still was a very friendly climate. A bus without heater brought her to the next bigger city and there she was awaited by a guard of the Alaska prison. He drove her through the incredible white and huge landscape to one of the most secure places in the world. Nobody was ever thought to break out of it.

Mrs. Jones' stomach turned when she saw the impressive stone-building with its over-dimensional walls appearing at the horizon and cursed her superior Mr. Blunt one more time. It took twenty-more minutes until they passed the huge, grey stone-wall. She was searched kindly, there were only male guards. The watcher who had driven her here led her to the cell blocks.

He opened a door and what followed left Mrs. Jones with terror in her bones. It was a huge corridor with cells on the right and left. All of them were about three times two meters with two beds as loft at the wall.

The inmates started scream at the guard and at her, they haven't seen a woman for ages, except of course, deceased Natasha and her daughter.

The MI6 agent stared at the men, all skin colours, all hair colours, but all muscular and some of them with psychopathic, paedophile glances x-raying her. She tried to ignore them and followed the guard. Finally, he stopped in front of one of the tiny cells.

Mrs. Jones turned around and saw the typical cell with the beds, one over the other one. A small desk at the other sides, she noticed some books on the floor. First, she recognized a man lying on the upper bed. He looked at her, he was tall, muscular, had black eyes, tan skin, and dark brown hair.

His arms were both fully tattooed and he wore the typical blue jail overall. Then she looked over to the second person who just got up from the lower bed. She looked taller than on the photos but weaker.

Mrs. Jones couldn't imagine she was the person she'd heard of, a cruel killer, born by a cruel mother, now surrounded by violent men, growing up in the most unfriendly, toughest place of the world.

"Mrs. Jones. I wondered when I was going to meet you," she said and smiled at the agent. Even her smile let Mrs. Jones shivers run down her spine.

"You know me?"

"Oh, Mr. Blunt was so nice to send me some reports about my father, his missions...," she now stood right at the bars, in front of Mrs. Jones. The agent didn't want to step back, although in safe distance she felt uncomfortable.

"You're scared of me," the girl muttered. "What do you expect me to do?"

Her voice was clear and strong, also charming and sounding so friendly, falsely friendly. She spoke English with an American accent, as having grown up surrounded by international criminals, teaching her to talk and to write.

Mr. Blunt has wanted her to become educated, Mrs. Jones betted he already regretted it deeply. It had turned out that the girl was very smart and intelligent, learning quickly. From her mother she had learned Russian, from some other inmates other languages.

Mrs. Jones had to keep in mind that her counterpart used every weakness of her enemies, searched for holes in the walls of one's mind and was fluent in at least English, Russian, French, Spanish, Arabic and German.

"He sent you information about me, too?" she asked surprised. Blunt hasn't told her _that_.

"You have a lot of free time in here...after learning those files by heart I got bored. He just sent me new stuff to read...interesting stuff."

Mrs. Jones sighed and is glad that she didn't go any further by going through her personal life like uncountable psychologists did before. It was her weakness and the girl seemed to know this.

"I heard about Alex' adventure at Skeleton key. He seems to be a really good tool for the British secret service," she hissed, although there was nothing directly unfriendly with her, Mrs. Jones was disgusted.

She imagined how many people she had already killed during prison riots, how many battles to prove that she isn't just everybody's girl for the night. Mrs. Jones promised herself that if she ever had to tell Alex about her, she'd leave out that part.

"He is no tool. He's...just doing some work for us. And yes, he is effective."

"Must be the family," she said.

Mrs. Jones didn't know what to respond. She was so right, Alex had learnt a lot from his uncle, such an unfortunate he'd never got to know his own father.

"Mr. Blunt wanted to know how you are."

She laughs shortly. "Why doesn't he come, then? Did he tell you about the last visit?"

"No," she hesitated saying that. Mr. Blunt has never told her much about the encounter with this girl and they both had needed to keep her identity and even existence secret. "He wanted to know...if you still live. I heard you've been making friends here."

"There's no other possibility than making friends or die...you can't imagine this, Mrs. Jones. It is impossible for you to know how to feel. As the only women among dozens of men, having had any pleasure for ages, being cramped in here for sexual assaults or violent attacks, murders..." she answered and the agent could see the madness in her eyes.

"I can imagine that...it wasn't very easy for you..." Mrs. Jones stammered not knowing what to say. Of course, before the girl was old enough to protect herself, she has only had her mother. And a woman with a child was easy prey for hungry men like here were.

The girl leaned forward to Mrs. Jones and whispered: "What have you been told? ...Don't be so shy...Tell me, I haven't spoken with another woman for years...except for psychologists or teachers..."

"One of your teachers you killed..."

"I enjoyed it..."

Mrs. Jones felt her last meal turning in her stomach while seeing the girl grin. "The men...used to abuse you...hit you, beat you up."

"And the doctors here always kept me alive so that I could endure more suffering and more pain..."

"They...they abused you sexually...?"

"Yes...something you can't imagine, Mrs. Jones. You're growing up in well-known London and everything you know about it is something you read in the newspaper or see on TV...the first time I was seven. Then it went on and on. And when my mum died, there was nothing to hold them back. And you know what, after a time you start to enjoy it. Something you could never dream of as well...but I don't blame you, you know,"

she whispered and leaned back again so that the agent sighed in relief. "You live in Great Britain, in a civilisation with free people. You have no idea what it is like to grow up as a prisoner and never ever to be released...just because your agent had to fuck a Russian spy," she said in normal voice again. But she didn't sound aggressive, just like clarifying facts.

"You read a lot about your father...what do you think about him?" Mrs. Jones watched her eyes becoming even colder, she laughed silently.

"My mum told me to hate him. He was a British spy, seducing her just for information. When she found out that he had been married, nothing made her happier than the news of his death a few months later. Then she realized that she was pregnant and finally he was indicated as my father."

"You were the child from a man she hated..."

"She condemned him but she accepted me as the final pay-back. It wasn't good for him to have a daughter from a Russian spy and this knowledge satisfied her. I don't hate my father and it's such a shame I didn't get him to know...and that I didn't get the chance to kill him myself." She shrugged. "He was one of your greatest agents. His brother Ian also was. You should watch Alex good, he's the last one you have." She paused. "Do you plan to use him again?"

"We...think about it. Mr. Blunt thinks he's doing remarkable work."

"But you have your doubts. He's just a kid. A fourteen year old kid. But look at me. I'm fourteen as well and you wouldn't hesitate to send me into some danger. And you'd be glad if I got killed. But that's another story, it's because I'm evil...in your eyes. And my dear half-brother is just an innocent young boy..." She sighed, staring somewhere into nothing before she looked back at Mrs. Jones.

"I'll let you know if we use him again," Mrs. Jones summed up and turned to leave.

"Wait," the girl asked and stepped closer to the bars again.

Mrs. Jones looked back at the girl who seemed so small and helpless right now. All fake, she thought. She could kill me within seconds.

"Please send Alan my regards...it was nice to meet you, Tulip..." she said and suddenly she seemed to be a normal human being, a young woman with a nice and friendly nature.

"I will, Alex," Mrs. Jones said and finally turned again. While walking away, sensing the stare of Alexandra and the other inmates on her back, she thought about if it was coincidence that Natasha chose the female version of John's son's name for their daughter.

But then, stepping out into the bright sunlight again, she felt an immense burden fall down from her and made her breathe freely in relief again. She stepped into the black car and wished nothing more than return to the Kingdom as soon as possible.

**Please bother to review.**


	6. Escape

**A longer chapter because I couldn't split it. I hope you don't mind. Oh, and sorry for the mistakes, I write very fast and don't notice them...and when it's uploaded it's too late to correct... (or I'm just too lazy to do it...)**

**By the way, I'm no native speaker so please forgive me that my English isn't perfect.**

**Chapter 6**

When Alex got back to the orphanage, he couldn't think of anything else than the mission his father had done seventeen years ago. Had he really slept with this Natasha Sedov, had he liked it? Had he had a bad consciousness because his wife had been at home in Britain, pregnant with him? His thought of this woman couldn't leave his mind.

And then this girl, had Mrs. Jones told him her name? Close to the door to his sleeping room he stopped.

No, she hadn't told him her name. Why not? She avoided it and he hadn't asked.

Damn it, he thought, when he closed the door behind him and turned on the lights. He still imagined the face of the slender, tall woman with that psychopathic and empty look. She scared him a bit but he was surprised about himself that he didn't intend to search her. He looked out the window to the dark city. Out there, she was hiding.

Was she waiting for him? Did she really believe he would look for her? Then you're wrong, he thought and that would prove that they really had nothing in common but some DNA. The daughter of my father, Alex thought. But he had been so young, never remembering his parents in any detail, only his uncle who he grew up with.

He looked back at his bed and on the alarm clock. It was ten forty-eight, too early to sleep but he decided that nothing he could start now would work out. So he changed into his night clothes, a long jogging trousers and a T-Shirt of Chelsea, something reminding him to his life in London.

* * *

He woke up in the middle of the night believing that he heard a sound. Bare night fell in through the window and Alex was awake immediately recognizing a shillouette sitting at the edge of the bed right in front of him.

He fumbled for the light switch and pushed it and would have nearly screamed out loud by noticing the barrel of a gun pointed at his face. With wide eyes he followed the arm to the body and the face.

A man was sitting there, grinning at him. He was in his late thirties, already had grey-brown hair although nearly bald, grey-brown eyes, he was muscular, wore a shirt, jeans and a brown leather jacket.

He was someone you didn't want to meet in a dark alley at night and especially not someone you wanted in your bedroom in the middle of the night.

"You know who I am?" he asked with broken British accent which Alex couldn't define a country for.

"You're...The Gentleman..." he stammered in surprise. Mrs. Jones had been right and this man was fast. He wondered if the guards who should watch him were either dead already or haven't even notice this man entering...how? Through the window or through the door?

"You know why I am here?" he asked in a severe tone.

"You...my sister sent you..." Alex said and looked around. His window was still closed so he guessed the man must have broken in through another window or the backdoor to the orphanage's garden.

"Sister? What the fuck are you talking about?" he asked confused.

Now, Alex was the one being confused, too. If his half-sibling didn't sent him, who then? "Who wants me dead then?" he asked surprised and already remembered a thousand of other person who would like to bury his body personally.

"Someone you made angry...But he has a girlfriend, your sister, I assume?"

"Half-sister, please. Who?"

"Guess," The Gentleman seemed to enjoy his position of pointing the rifle at the young boy. For him, it has never looked so easy, just kill a seventeen year old.

"I don't play your sadistic games," Alex answered annoyed and bored. But suddenly, it all made sense to him. His half-sister encountered an old arch-enemy of him and starts to help him to find his revenge.

They hire The Gentleman and...there was still the question why she didn't want to do it herself. Alex frowned. She expected the assassin to fail. She knew what he had done before and a simple hit man couldn't stop a trained MI6 spy. "I've made a lot of people angry in my past. So you either tell me know or you don't."

"His name is Ryan McCain. Remember his name?" The Gentleman answered with a bride grin on his face. He loved to be in power over his victims.

McCain, McCain, Alex remembered that name...Desmond McCain, that bald, black-skinned man who had once wanted to kill him. He had finished him off with an oil drum that exploded.

"Desmond McCain had a son?" he figured out in disbelief.

The Gentleman nodded. "And he is _very_ angry. Had a pretty girl with him, long, brown, curly hair, too slender, tiny boobs, seemed not to have a lot of fun in her life, as serious as she was?"

"May be my sister..."

"Tell me something about her. I think he fucks her, well, she _is_ pretty...," The Gentleman laughed.

And Alex guessed him right as a man who took what he wanted, both death and women.

"I don't know her. She escaped from prison two months ago..." Alex needed time to think. She expected him to finish the guy off, but he was a trained assassin and not very small. Alex turned around shortly and back again. He thought. There were some books lying behind him and he tried to remember which was the one Mr Smithers gave him the last time they had seen each other. He had said that it should remind him on the common time together.

"Ah...seems to be a real tough one, I like that..." The Gentleman said and Alex could imagine the dirty thought he was having right now. His chance to grab.

Hectically he fumbled for his Harry Potter book he had just spotted right behind him. Before The Gentleman realized what Alex planned, he pressed the button which was hid under the author's name.

A tiny dart with tranquilizing chemical filled top jump out and directly into The Gentleman's arm. He squalled in surprise and Alex pulled his arm aside to grab the gun. He didn't get it but managed to hit it out of the man's hand. The weapon landed on the floor and flew against the book shelf on the opposite wall.

That was the point when Alex jumped out of the bed and threw his body on the astonished assassin.

His fist crushed down on the man's face who couldn't shun that fast. His head hit the woody edge of the bed and Alex stumbled backwards in surprise. But before he could turn around to reach out for the rifle he saw the hatchet man pulling out a knife.

"This is my reassurance," he hissed and the blade shimmered in the night lamp light. "Usually, my victim's don't dare to fight like you. You must be really tired of life!" He started to walk towards Alex, feeling secure with the sharp knife in his hand.

But Alex, not wanting to encounter the man nearly weighing twice as much as he did, turned around and ran out of the room, shutting the door which flew open again two seconds later. Quickly thinking Alex decided for the staircase upwards, taking two stairs at once, hearing the assassin coming after him, screaming all kinds of insults.

Suddenly, the light in the stairway went on and Alex knew that he had attracted too much attention and that about half of the orphanage must be awake by now.

Not caring for how to explain that later, he reached the last floor, running down the corridor towards the window. He opened it in panic and looked down to the ground. He was in third floor, not quite the height you wanted to jump down. He looked aside and noticed the downpipe.

"I must be insane," he muttered but agreed at the same time. He took a run-up and jump, grabbing the pipe for hold, now hanging without anything under him to prevent him from falling down.

He felt the plastic ripping open his hands and he brachiated forwards, moved sideways with his hands. He recognized The Gentleman appearing at the window, his gun again in his hand, aimed at Alex right now. Panicking, Alex tried to move faster away, not being strong enough for pulling himself up the roof.

He reached another window where light was on and noticed how Katie, another child, fifteen, was watching outside. He kicked at the window and shouted "Open, please!" when the first gun shot was fired.

He ducked automatically but was glad that The Gentleman was such a bad sniper. The girl opened the window and he let himself fall down, trying to grab hold. He landed with his chest on the window sill, shifted all his weigh forward and fell down into the room.

"What the hell are you doing?" Katie asked in shock, wide-opened green eyes staring in disbelief at him. "Who has shot at you?" she gasped.

But when Alex stood up, he pushed her against the wall and whispered: "Stay in here!"

Without more explanation, he ran out of the door, already hearing the footsteps of the killer behind him. He didn't dare to turn around, reached the staircase again and started stumbling down, crashing against the next wall, then turned to take the next stair down to the bottom floor. Light was already lit everywhere and he noticed interested glances of the other children.

"Alex, what's up?" one of the care workers asked and appeared from the kitchen.

Before Alex could shout any warning, another gun shot was fired, missing Alex closely but creating a nice hole in the wall in front of him. He turned to the main door, realizing it was locked and instinctively ducked. The next bullet shivered the glass, and the broken pieces of glass fell down on Alex who protected his head with his hands.

He heard people screaming who had been watching and without caring, Alex ran out of the building. When he reached the garden fence, he turned back and saw the assassin a few meters behind him, preparing for another shot. Suddenly, Alex' attention was awaken by the noise of creaking car tires and the street was lightened brightly.

A door was opened and he recognized Marc's voice screaming "Alex, come in!" Alex didn't need to listen twice and threw himself into the car. The door closed when the car started to drive away and the silhouette of The Gentleman grew smaller with the distance.

Alex dared to look around and recognized MI6-agent Marc sitting on the backseat, while another unknown agent was driving the car. "You could have intervened earlier," Alex complained and picked some glass pieces of his shirt.

"We noticed your guards were dead when they didn't report in for midnight," the seventy-years-old agent explained. "Mrs. Jones was scared and sent us, we realized, they were both shot and then heard the gunshots."

"It was The Gentleman," Alex explained.

"We'll care for him. You will be brought to MI6 HQ in DC right now, where you've been yesterday. It's safe there for you."

"Let's hope so," the boy answered and wiped away the blood of his cheeks, staring out of the window where the street lamps were just passing orange lights.

**That's the sixth chapter and I still haven't got a single review. Please write me what you think...**


	7. The Experiment

**o.O I got Reviews! Two! Fascinating, thank you very much :DDD**

**Chapter 7**

"You failed," Ryan McCain declared.

The Gentleman had returned to the back-room in the bar which I had showed him earlier. We were again sitting on the couches, Ryan next to me, the hand on my waist and the assassin in front of us. Three Scotch glasses were on the table and I hope he'll once die from alcohol intoxication.

"You didn't tell me he was a trained MI6 agent!" he protected himself.

"You know now," Ryan answered astonishing calmly.

Perhaps the silence before the storm and I would bet that The Gentleman won't survive this meeting. The killer nips his Scotch and leans back.

"Alex was supposedly rescued by MI6 agents," Ryan continues and I feel how he stronger grabs my waist. He is nervous, now they know we're after him. "What did you tell Alex?"

"Why should I have told him anything?"

"Because she installed a bug in his room," he pays back with a side-look on me. My eyes still x-ray the table in front of me and I hope that the next chance will be my turn to kill Alex.

For the first time, The Gentleman doesn't know how to respond. His mouth drops open and his eyes fixate on my face.

"Now he knows we're after him. I can't risk any more failures."

"I can break into MI6 headquarters, if you want. I will kill Alex as soon as I see him!" he promises and put the glass back on the table. I see panic slowly taking over the expression of his eyes.

"I've learnt that if you don't want to risk or to fail, you should do everything by yourself," Ryan continues, his voice is trembling and he leans forwards, taking his arm from my waist.

"And I don't want to fail anymore. This _child_ killed my father while I was far away, unable to help," he hisses. "And he should pay for that!" he shouts all of sudden and his flat hands hits the glass table making the glasses jump.

The Gentleman stars at the black-skinned bald man in surprise and perhaps a big scared. He hasn't taken a gun to this meeting, what a fool.

"Kill him," Ryan says and leans back.

The Gentleman's eyes directly jump to me. He calculates me and hesitates. He doesn't know enough about me. I stand up and walk around the table.

"You really want this girl to kill me? How old is she, eighteen?" he laughs and stands up as well, he's nearly one head taller than I am.

"Kill him," Ryan repeats quietly and takes his scotch glass. He leans back and watches me.

Before The Gentleman can start laughing again, I push him down on the couch, clutching my hands around his neck. He grabs for my arms immediately but didn't expect me to be so strong. He tighten my grab and his face becomes red. He gasps for breath and his eyes get wet.

I tries to scream but neither can do that nor breath. Slowly, he glides down from the sofa on the floor. When he doesn't move anymore, I loosen my grab and feel his pulse. I take his head and break his neck which makes an unpleasant sound that's music to my ears.

I look at Ryan who is just finishing his glass. The expression on his face show something between madness and joy.

"What do you want to do with his body?" he asks.

"Dump it in the river. MI6 needs to know he's out of the game," I decide and step back to him. I sit down on his knees and his hands glide through my hair, down my neck and finally arrive at my breasts.

"You can't wait, can you?" I sigh. Like all men, he's lecherous and driven by his dick. "What about first we get rid of that body and then you may count my scars again?" I propose annoyed. I don't mind him touching me right now but I want MI6 to know that nothing is there to hold me back anymore.

"What about some scar-counting right now, then we get rid of the body and after it, we do it again, isn't that a proposal?" he asks with a huge grin in his face and his enormous hands slip down my belly and into my trousers.

"As you wish," I answer and lean forward to kiss his dark-skinned neck.

* * *

"What's up, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked when he answered his mobile phone.

"Alex just closely escaped an attack of a hit man," Tony explained in short breath. "A black car brought him to a building in downtown. I send McGee the address to check it up."

Gibbs looked over to McGee who was occupied with his Smart Phone. "It's a bank...wait, it's MI6 headquarters in DC."

"It belongs to MI6," Gibbs explained to Tony. "Come back, DiNozzo. We have a body here."

"A marine?"

"No. We found him by coincidence and we believe it's The Gentleman."

"Wow, what makes you think that, boss?"

"He was found near the river, was dumped somewhere in the North and flowers were tied to his corpse."

"I'm on my way, boss." Tony ends the phone call and turns the car, not noticing he was watched by Mrs. Jones looking out of the window of the seventh floor. She turns back from the window, lowers the jalousie and turns on the light.

"That was close, Alex," she declared and looked at the boy in t-shirt and jogging trousers. "Agent Collins will help you with your wounds and bring you some new clothes. We should have been more careful."

He nods back and leaves the room. Mrs. Jones watched him closing the door, shortly before her phone rang. Surprised she answered the call: "How did you know I'm still working?"

"You're always working," the agent answered. "We just found out that NCIS located The Gentleman."

"They haven't been in the case anymore."

"It was a coincidence."

"Where is The Gentleman now?"

"In NCIS HQ, Autopsy."

Mrs. Jones' breathe stopped for a second. "He's dead?" she asked in shock. He was a high-profile killer, hunted by MI6 for ages already and suddenly he appeared dead?

"Obviously. He was strangled first and then his neck was broken. It was a profi who did this."

"Alex..." Mrs. Jones muttered.

"I beg you pardon?"

"Nothing. Thank you very much. I will contact NCIS right now to get his body over to the UK. I want him being autopsied there."

"Good luck with it," the agent said and was gone.

Mrs. Jones leaned back in her chair. Not MI6 had hunted him for ages, _Mr. Blunt _had. And therefore she, too, since she had joined the secret service.

* * *

"Ducky, this is Mrs. Jones from British MI6," Special Agent Gibbs explained when the two agents entered Autopsy. "Mrs. Jones, Dr. Mallard and his assistant Mr. Palmer."

They greeted each other and the boss asked: "So, what can you tell us?"

Ducky sighed and then started: "Like I said at crime scene, he possesses strangulation marks and here you can see shapes of the hand who killed this man. What catches your attention first?"

"They're very small. A young woman has done this," Mrs. Jones explained.

"Yes...how do you know it was a woman? She must have been extraordinarily strong." Ducky asked and also Gibbs looked surprised.

"She escaped two months ago from prison. We believe she offered The Gentleman a job when she surprised him at crime scene of your previous marine. She and a man called Ryan McCain hired him to murder Alex Rider who killed McCain's father."

"Who is this Alex really?"

"That's classified information and not important. Main thing is, he was an experiment of British MI6. Since it failed, we try to protect him," Mrs. Jones revealed. She turned to the pathologist. "You said his neck was broken, too?"

"Yes, it was done after our victim went unconscious. It obviously was a reassurance that he was really dead. How old is she?"

"All matter concerning Alex Rider and attempts to kill him are now case of MI6. Like I said before, it has nothing to do with NCIS anymore," she answered shortly and walked back to the elevator.

Gibbs jumped in shortly before the doors closed and shut of the power. She just sighed, knowing he wanted answers.

"I can't tell you more," she said sharply.

"What kind of experiment?" Gibbs asked.

She sighed and calculated the risk. But then, she trusted him and turned around. "When Ian Rider, Alex' uncle died, we blackmailed him to finish the mission his uncle started. After that, we used him for several other occasions because nobody suspects a school boy to be a spy."

"You blackmailed a school boy?" Gibbs asked in surprise and couldn't believe what the British were able to do.

"This is most classified material. We can't risk this information to get out. This happened almost once and we did everything to stop it. So don't tell anybody!"

"And what happened with Alex after his missions?"

"He suffered from very intense traumata since his last, ninth mission. We let him live with his friends-"

"But it didn't work out, yes. I read that part," Gibbs answered and sighed. He couldn't believe what this woman did to a seventeen year old boy...fourteen he suggested Alex must have been then. "Where is Alex now?"

"At MI6 headquarters. He's being watched constantly," Mrs. Jones felt uncomfortable although she was a trained agent. But talking about Alex made her always feel uneasy. She had never wanted him to be used but she had officially agreed to this project as much as Mr. Blunt.

"Now, tell me who this girl is...she killed a high-profile assassin and she works together with, I assume, one of Alex' old arch-enemies from his 'missions'?"

"Ryan McCain, the son of Desmond McCain, Alex had to kill him on his eighth mission which was called inofficially 'Crocodile Tears'. I heard your agent McGee is very talented for hacking into these sites."

"He hasn't done yet. And the girl?" Gibbs hated to repeat himself and slowly became angry. He stared into the eyes of Mrs. Jones who tried to avoid his look.

"Seventeen years ago, we sent Alex' father John Rider on a mission. It was successful and we arrested every member of an Indian arms trade organization. But the girlfriend of the boss was pregnant from John. She bore a child and we made sure that she grew up with her mother in prison. John's wife should never find out that her husband had an illegitimate daughter."

"You let the daughter grow up in prison?" Gibbs shouted, now definitely angrily.

"Natasha, the mother, was brought to a high-security prison in Canada where the guards were told to watch the child. As soon as she could walk, she had to work there. Her mother died when she was ten and the girl was on her own. After several incidents, including a prison riot in which she killed another inmate and hurt some others, she was sent back to Alaska. She escaped two months ago," the MI6 agent admitted silently.

Gibbs gasped for breath. He couldn't believe that. He looked at the ceiling and around before he could find any words. "Let me get this right," he started and tried not to shout. "One of your agent impregnated a woman he also brought into prison.

But because he had wife and son at home, you made this girl grow up in maximum security prisons with dozens of paedophiles, psychopaths and lecherous men. And now you wonder why she broke out and wants to kill her half-brother?"

Mrs. Jones remained calm instead. "To make you feel better I could say that I never wanted this to happen. Neither lock up John's daughter for her whole life, nor use Alex as super-spy. But it happened and now we have to stop Ryan and her from succeeding."

"Okay," Gibbs muttered and thought about the possibilities. "She won't be so stupid and enter MI6 HQ, will she?"

She slowly shook her head. "We search everyone who comes in. There is no way Alex can be endangered. Now our priority is to find Ryan and her."

"What's she called?" Gibbs asked.

"Alexandra."

"Oh god..." he muttered when he switched on power of the lift again. "I will tell my team. They can keep classified material secret," he added with a glance on the agent.

**But I don't mind getting more Reviews... ;)**


	8. The Basement

**Eighth chap...Alex meets Alex...uuhhh... ;)**

**Chapter 8**

"How long am I supposed to stay here?" Alex asked when he entered Mrs. Jones office after breakfast.

"Until we found McCain and your sister," she answered and looked up from her work. She look tired and worried, obviously self-reproaching what happened. "Alex, did you know...Sabina and her family were found dead two days ago in their house in San Francisco," she added with a concerned look at him.

He sighed, somehow he had expected something like this. His sister was thorough. "My sister, I assume," he answered neutrally. Everybody close to him died, John, Ian, Jack, now Sabina. He had given up, he didn't care anymore for his 'friends'. He knew there were no friends because anybody would always end it.

* * *

Alex woke up again. It was his second day in MI6 headquarter buildings and they haven't found a single hint yet on either McCain or his god-damned half-sister. It seemed as if she disappeared as fast as she had...well, she hadn't appeared yet toward Alex and he was starting to wonder, if she was in Washington anymore.

He was walking around in the corridors, he didn't have much to do, when he encountered Marc _(to be imagined like Marc Alaimo, the famous Star Trek actor)_ again. He was actually only used for driver tasks or any routines.

"Hey, nothing to do?" he asked with a smile. He couldn't smile much, there were several scars running through his tan face and it was obvious that he had had some adventurous time at MI6.

"No..." Alex answered slowly. Of course, he hadn't. There was not a damned thing a school boy was good for and he wasn't allowed to leave MI6 building which kind of annoyed him. He didn't have friends outside but he had thought about which lie Mrs. Jones had invented for his acting in the orphanage and what the other children or his classmates were told.

"Then come with me, I got to do some paperwork down in the cellar," Marc explained and Alex shrugged. However, he followed the senior agent to the lift.

They entered the archive in the basement and Marc scanned his iris for gaining access. Marc leads the way and they pass uncountable folders and boxes full of classified material.

"We're digitalizing the old files now. And of course, nobody wants to do it so I have to..." Marc explains and they walk around several corners until Alex finally lost his sense for orientation.

"And here we are," the agent states and they arrive at a little table with four boxes on it. "I finished this one yesterday," he puts one box on the floor. "Now, we have to go through these..." he pulls out a laptop from the shelf next to them and starts the software.

"We have to open read every file, and enter the codename. Then this document opens. Every file has already been scanned in, but not yet names. That's a very interesting job," he said ironically but for Alex it was better than doing nothing.

After about two hours, Marc declared that he would get them some coffee and Alex continued typing some letter and number codes into the computer. It wasn't complicated but he needed to have a second look on each of them for controlling having typed in the right number.

Suddenly he noticed that this was the first time he hadn't thought about any danger or the fear of getting killed.

He doubted that he'd ever return to the orphanage or his school and was absolutely sure that Mrs. Jones already called Mr. Blunt for figuring out to which city they'd send him this time. Perhaps he should give his new life a try and accept a new school, make new friends and finally forget or at least push his past away.

It was time, Jack was dead for nearly one and a half years now and he couldn't mourn forever. Maybe he should ask them to give him a complete new name, that could give him an entire chance to _really _ fit into the world again.

He was so concentrated on his work, that he didn't notice my two eyes being fixed on the back of his head. He was a pretty boy, but he appeared so weak in comparison to all the inmates I've grown up with in prison. It would be so easy to kill him. I hear footsteps behind me and look aside. Marc has arrived.

"He's doing a great job...," he states. "You really want to kill him?"

I nod. Yes, my only possibility. He is the reason why I grew up in such misery, just because my dad's wife has been pregnant with him. And he killed his own clone, so I read. And the more I had found out about Julius, the more I liked him. This will be my vengeance for him, McCain and me.

"When?" Marc asks.

"Now," I whisper and my eyes start glowing. I have waited for this moment so long and finally I have the chance to end all this. McCain will be found dead in a few hours, I killed him before I drove here.

This is not his business, it is just something between Alex and me. I think about killing Marc, but he looks so nice and he's full of evil, remembering me to my friends in Alaska. He is seventy, still good looking, so lecherous and mean and strong, so many scars on his body, I'd like to count them all.

* * *

Alex didn't hear the footsteps but suddenly he looked up when something unfamiliar appeared in his view. Surprised and perplex, completely overrun with the situation, he couldn't move.

He stared directly at the currently most wanted figure in the whole country and here she was: His own, dangerous and most mean half-sister.

She slowly came closer, loping. She smiled and behind her, Alex recognized Marc.

"You..." he started but didn't really know what to say.

"Yes...me, me, me...Alex, I'll leave you alone. I wait at the elevator for you," he said first to the male, then to the female Alex and disappeared.

"And now it is only a thing between both of us," Alexandra stated and smiled at him.

She was even more slender and thinner than on the photo and he was sure she was anorexic. Her skin seemed to be tightened over the bones and her arms, her neck and nearly every part of her seemed only to contain muscles, bones and tan skin.

She wore black jeans with elegant boots and a black blouse with ¾-sleeves. She didn't have much tits, only muscles there, too, but it seemed to be enough for most men and it was, when you considered the rest of her impressive body.

Although she wasn't tall she had this kind of charisma that could, so believed Alex, melt every other man. But he knew too much, he had read too much about her.

Mrs. Jones had been kind not to tell him everything but he had means to find out. And so he was aware of her violence, her psychopathic attitude, her cruelness and of how many people she had already killed, in prison and since she had escaped: The Gentleman, McCain, what he didn't know yet, a young girl in the age of twenty who she had supposedly first slept with and then slaughtered.

"I assume Mrs. Jones told you a lot about me," she said and came far too near for Alex' gust. They stood opposite to each other, one meter was nothing secure when you had a trained assassin in your room.

"Not quite much," Alex admitted. "But believe me, I've read enough about you..." he added and tried to figure out what she wanted or expected from him. But her dark blue eyes showed him no hint, no emotion. "Why are you here?"

"Ah...don't you know that already?" she hissed in a charming, but scary voice.

"You...want to kill me...I think," he said.

"Why so shy, Alex?" she asked and touched his cheek. He wanted to step back but edged on the table and cursed himself. That made her smile and her hand glided down his chin and his neck before she relieved him of being touched. "I'm your sister, Alex. There's no way you can deny that."

"You're not my sister...you're a monster!" she hissed back.

"Ah...and you're not? Yes, Alex...I killed people...didn't you, too? ... I've read everything about you. I know _everything_.

Mr. Blunt had been so nice to send me your files," she nearly whispered but it was still loud enough for Alex to understand that he was in real danger and that this girl was different to all enemies he had yet made: She wouldn't hesitate to kill him as necessary and she was much faster than all the old foes Alex had tackled yet.

"I did it in self-defence...you kill for fun," he explained angrily and reacting to her smile, he declared: "You wanted me to justify myself."

"Oh, Alex. Haven't we grown old enough that we know that we don't need justification. It is much more perplex than simple good and evil but you know that, Alex. Having fought evil so often...you don't want to do that anymore, do you?" she asked, having as much sympathy as a snake.

"I don't fight people like you anymore. I have quit and you know that."

"But past always catches up with you, doesn't it? Ryan McCain, Julius Grief, Yassen Gregorovich? And you have survived them all...you must be very proud of you-"

"Stop it," he hissed and stepped toward her.

She didn't look surprised but amused. She foresaw every step he did, every word he said.

"I have killed people and I didn't like it. But I had to."

"Don't tell me you weren't pleased when you shot your identical twin."

"Clone."

"You fought your enemies and you saw them die. Wasn't there a kind of happiness you felt?" she hissed and he could see the madness reflecting in her dark eyes.

"You've lived among paedophiles too long. We're not similar, not even remotely. Even _if_ we're siblings and even _if_ we share the same name," he said and tried not to lose his temper.

"You're NOTHING like me!" he shouted after it and hoped anybody would have a look in the basements although he doubted it. His siblings has chosen a perfect moment for an encounter.

He gained his self-control again. "What are you going to do with Marc? Kill him?"

"No, not yet. He can still be quite useful and he's good in bed..."

"He's seventy," Alex said in disgust and imagined the seventeen year old in front of her touching the man's face of scars and old wounds.

She smiled seeing how disgusted he was and Alex didn't doubt anymore that she would rather belong into a nuthouse than into a prison isolated from the world. "You're crazy," he muttered and looked down.

That was his mistake. Only a blink of an eye later, he felt himself lying on the floor, his sister above him, pushing his breast down.

He tried to free himself but she was too strong, far stronger than you expected from a slender girl like her.

"You know Alex, to grow up and survive in prison in Alaska I had to learn and to use _a lot _of violence but also self-discipline and calmness or I would have gone ballistic. It nearly drove me _mad_, locked up with all those paedophiles and psychopaths and you don't have a _single _ idea what's it like.

I've been beaten up, hit regularly, abused, treated like everyone's bitch and you know what? I fought my way and after I've killed one of these stupid sons of a bitches, I earned respect.

And since that, I fought and fucked my way up until I reached the top. You know what it is like, to fight until you're ahead of everybody else. And we both lost everything we had. You lost your sympathy and emotions and you try to isolate yourself from the world because you fear to be a danger for them...but I _know _I am."

"You're insane!" Alex cried out as loud as he could. He felt tears running out of his eyes and tried to loosen her grip, impossible.

What followed to that, was an evil and mad laughter that not even Damian Cray, Desmond McCain or Julius Grief could have made better.

"Oh, Alex. I know. I know what I lost, my emotions, by mercy, myself. And that's the reason why I have no pity with you. You could have chosen another way, Alex. But you're just pathetic!" she answered with so much hate in her voice that Alex was surprised when she decided to finish him off.

"And you know what the mistake of all your previous foes was?" she asked.

"Answer me!" she shouted when he didn't respond.

"They...they gave me a chance to flee..." Alex coughed. He had greatest toil not being strangulated by her.

"That's right...do you know, what else? They _wanted to kill you_. And I want, too. Razim wanted to test your fear, to scare you, Julius wanted to kill you full of hatred and all the others just wanted you out of the way to take over earth.

But it is something different between us, there's a bond! I don't want you just dead, I want you to suffer..." she whispered and her deep blue eyes started to glow. Alex wanted to scream again but couldn't when she even pressed him harder to the ground before she finally let him breathe again. She stood up and looked down on him.

"What do you wanna do now?" Alex asked angrily. He didn't bother to stand up. If she wanted to kill him, then she only needed to start a battle.

"I want to kill you, Alex. But first, I will let you suffer. Expect me, Alex. I will come back, for you, in the moment you'll expect me least," she hissed and before Alex could answer anything, his vision got black and he realized she must have kicked him heavily against the head.

He heard footsteps walking away before he completely lost consciousness.

**Expect more...concerning this story. Actually I planned this as a showdown, but I now decided continue writing. :) Hope you like it.**


	9. Observation

**Warning!**

**The following chapter contains eventual erotic and sex with minor scenes and may therefore not be appropriate by minors. Although this story is rated M, I recommend it not to be read by 16/17 years old. (What luck that tomorrow is my Birthday: 20th September)**

**I've warned you, so please don't complain and please leave me a review as Birthday gift ;DD**

**Chapter 9**

We're driving to the little flat where nobody can find us. "Why didn't you kill him? You could have finished it all," Marc says, he doesn't understand.

"Not yet. I want to see him suffer," I explain my true motive. As soon as I don't need him anymore, I plan to kill him as well.

"And how? What if Mrs. Jones protects him, brings him to another city and you can't find him anymore?"

"I have my means to find out, " I respond calmly to which he only sighs. "You think it was a mistake to keep him alive."

"Of course, I think that. You should have killed Alex."

"You have no idea...this is a thing between him and us."

"Then tell me why I am helping you?"

"Because you have always been the spy in MI6? Now it was your chance to show them who you really are," I answer and look at the rainy street. We arrive at the skyscraper where we've found an empty flat.

"They will search you," he warns me when we're inside the staircase, out of the pouring rain outside.

"And they won't find me," I say sharply and start walking upstairs.

"Are you sure?"

"Nobody suspects me hiding directly under their nose," I finally answer and search the key for the door.

* * *

"I think she will be hiding directly under our nose," Mr. Blunt declared. He was in a video conference with Mrs. Jones.

"Don't you think she wouldn't risk that?" she asked surprised.

"No, she needs to be close to Alex."

"You don't plan to use him as bait, do you?" she asked and leans back. She already knew the answer.

"It is our only chance to catch her, Tulip. She is a danger for the whole country, USA and UK. Imagine she would enter arms or drug trade. Do you know what damage this psychopathic, little girl can do?" Mr. Blunt answered. He knew much about MI6 and how to use people but not how to interact with them. That was Mrs. Jones task and she hated betraying people like that.

"Send him to another orphanage and school, but still in Washington. The city is big. And make sure that NCIS guys don't intervene anymore. Alex is not their business!" With that words, the director of MI6 special operations division was offline.

She sighed and cursed herself. She looked at the open file on her table and regarded the newest picture of Alexandra for a while. The first time they have met...she remembered how disgusted she was by such a girl.

No pity, no mercy, no emotions. She was a killer machine who didn't know fear or pain. She needed to be eliminated. The end justifies the means. At least, she hoped so.

* * *

Alex couldn't believe it. He was allowed to stay in Washington? What evil game was Blunt now playing with him? But when he arrived at the new orphanage and saw the new children he had to live with from now on, he knew it: He was supposed to play the bait. But however, he had told himself to try to fit in and now he would do so. He was nice to the care workers and the other orphans and he was showed his new room where he also met his new roommate, Keith.

"And where are you from?" Keith asked while Alex sorted his clothes into the cupboard.

"Originally from London. My parents died when I was an infant and my uncle died nearly three years ago. So I was given from one orphanage to another."

"Caused trouble?"

"May be a kind euphemism, yes," he said and saw how Keith smiled. "And you?"

"Oh, yeah. Me the same. Just that I was born in New York and directly grew up in one of these nice buildings. I caused a lot of trouble and after I set fire in an old garage, I was brought here to Washington," he answered and leaned back on his bed. "But don't worry. I'll show you everything here. To which school will you go?"

"East High..."

"Me the same, senior year, right?"

Alex nodded to the eighteen-year-old in front of him.

"Yeah, I hope I'll get my exams these times because I'm going to leave the orphanage next April..."

* * *

Days passed and Alex was surprised that he has neither been shot nor stabbed not involved in any fight. At night, Keith took him outside to some friends and they gathered on the streets, drank alcohol, sometimes shared some joints and went home around one in the evening, smuggling inside the orphanage through an open window. It wasn't an exciting life and also school was boring, Alex knew the stuff they were doing right now and wasn't very motivated to learn for it.

It wasn't challenging anymore and he enjoyed the simple life of a school kid because he didn't have to fight for his life every day now. He liked being welcomed at school and was proud that he didn't have the 'typical Alex Rider'-stamp on his front head any more. Unfortunately he didn't know that night and day he was being watched.

* * *

It was late night in our tiny flat. I was lying on the couch and reading a book Marc has given me. It is interesting although not very realistic. I have had enough time to dream during my time in prison to get away from the real world there but while growing up I've accepted my role as everyone's bitch and started to like it.

After my first killings, the men had started to accept and respect me. I hear footsteps and the door opens. Marc is back. I smile and he puts off his shoes and jacket and walks over to me.

"Any news?" I ask and put the book on the table next to me.

"No, Alex started a new life. Perhaps he wants to give it a new try," he informs.

"Mr. Blunt really wants him to play the bait."

"Well, you have to admit, he's a nice prey, isn't he?" he asks smilingly and sits down above me, staring at my face. I touch his face and he bends down to give me a kiss. His body sinks on mine and I push my breasts against his muscular chest.

Slowly I press my lips on his, we kiss, I taste his breath of peppermint and cigarette. He can be so tender and soft and cruel and strong at the same time. I feel his head, nearly bald but still with dark brown hair _(like I said, look up the actor Marc Alaimo, that's how this 'Marc' has to be imagined) _and we press our entire bodies on each other.

His hand slides through my hair and I'm covered by his enormous and muscular body. Then, without words, he sits up again and starts to open my black blouse.

His hands glides from my neck down to my tits, he grabs them cruelly and without romantic and that is what I like at him: No respect towards the woman's body, but toward the woman herself.

Then, he opens my bra which takes its time and he throws it with my blouse on the floor. Topless he comes down to me again, kissing my mouth, then my neck and toward my boobs. He licks my nipples which harden for arousal, then kisses my belly and his hands are gliding on my body again.

I close my eyes and remember those guys in prison, hitting, beating me up. In-and-out-game, over and over again, first one, then another, then the next one and so on. Until the guards lock them up again in their cells.

But my cell-comrade is still there, and when the guard is gone, he forces me to come down to his bed and the whole game starts again, with the other inmates watching and shouting and masturbating just with hearing me scream.

Marc is different and that makes him weak...and so strong at the same time. He is opening my trousers and pulling it down my legs. I will have to kill him sooner and later but as long as he pleases my for his own fun, he is still of use.

"Now you," I whisper when his hands had already slipped under my knickers. And I start removing his pullover, his jeans and his panties. Now he is the more naked one and it doesn't take more than five seconds until my pants lie next to us on the floor.

He crawls on me again, his dick already toey. He puts his hand behind my head, pressing me lightly up, towards him and he kisses me again and again, our lips don't separate anymore, we're nearly eating each other, he puts his tongue deep into my mouth and I lick it and his teeth.

Then he goes deeper again, kissing my neck. I push my breasts upwards and my head backwards to enjoy the seventy year old but still so good-looking man pleasing me and himself.

Finally, he gets up from me, but he's still so close to my face. He smiles his evil and lecherous smile at me, he likes having a seventeen year old girl lying under him, I assume I'm the youngest bitch for him for decades.

He fumbles for a condom package lying on the table, finds and opens it.

I take it and put it on his handsome, not very big, but okay-sized penis and he starts moving his pelvis up and down and I push mine toward him, he pushed me on my boobies on the couch and kissing me again, I look at the ceiling, enjoying the moment, feeling the arousal every time his body goes down and I feel how I suddenly stop caring about Alex, about MI6 although those thoughts are still in my mind, but don't appear important anymore.

I open my mouth to breathe enough and he looks up, too, enjoying while he gets faster and faster and then pushed me and I push my body at him, my tiny tits against his naked chest, his pelvis against my pelvis and then we both sink down on the couch again, he lying on me, I have my arms around his back, he lies his head next to my neck and starts slowly kissing my cheek and then rather licking my face. I smile and look at the ceiling, close my eyes and dream.

I don't know how much time is passing but I don't care. Then, he sits up on me again and his dark eyes look down at me. I smile at him and he puts the condom back into the open package. I sit up as well and fondle his nearly bald head. He touches my cheek and we understand each other without words.

"Your round?" I ask, like the day before yesterday. Yesterday he had wanted, too but I denied. Sex makes weak, in my opinion, it makes one being bound to someone else. That's the reason why I forbid myself to feel more than just happiness and being pleased, I don't want emotions, they're too dangerous.

He nods and I bend down toward his pelvis. I rubble his penis first and then start to give him head. He breathes heavily, throwing his head back, staring at the ceiling and closing his eyes for not screaming out in arousal. Finally, after an eternity, he sinks down again and we lie, this time I on him, on the couch which is too small to lie next to each other.

My head is placed on his enormous and muscular chest and I have my eyes closed, dreaming about several methods to kill both Marc and Alex. I think, I should kill Marc within the next few days before I finish off my half-brother because after doing so, I assume I'll have to run for it very fast and can't use a spy like him.

"Shouldn't we go to bed?" I propose then, I want to sleep a bit, I haven't dozen for nearly 48 hours now.

He moans and pushes me away from him. "I'm gonna chase the dragon first," he says and searches his clothes and dresses again. He gives me a short kiss before he disappears out of the room to go outside.

I sigh and pick up my clothes. I bring them to the bedroom and search my boxer-shorts and t-shirt which I use for sleeping.

After McCain had helped me escaping from prison, he had given me all kinds of new clothes and things like a gun and some knifes which I could really use. With his favourite sword, a collector's piece, he had been finally found being stabbed, a little time before I had expected it, but it didn't matter.

I put the sleeping clothes on and go into bed. Perhaps he wants another fuck when he comes back, I think and if so, I can kill him tonight, then I don't need anymore because I plan to encounter my sibling again, exactly one week after our first encounter.

Are you still expecting me, Alex?

**Please review.**


	10. A Well Hidden Secret

**The final chapter of my story. I hope you like it. Please review and in case you don't like this story, tell me what I may improve.**

**By the way, I'm not native English-speaker so please forgive me errors I'm either doing because of writing fast or because of my nescience.**

**Chapter 10**

I wake up and Marc is next to me. I cuddle nearer to him while he fumbles off the alarm clock. I put my head on his chest and smell his body, a mixture of his aftershave and cigarettes. I feel his hand gliding through my dark brown hair and down my neck, my back and he grabs hard my ass.

He enjoys touching me, it pleases him to have a seventeen-year old who he can fondle. Slowly, I crawl onto his big body, I'm about ten centimetres shorter than him but it doesn't matter. He stares into my eyes and I see the wilderness and lecherousness in his ones.

He wants to fuck me up and we start to do it once more. What he doesn't know is that this will be the last time and that his last hour on this earth has just begun. We make it extremely hard and intensive now, he wants to feel ultimate pleasure and I reach the climax as well, enjoying every second of his old, scar-marked, tan body.

He lies over me now and doesn't know about the knife which is hidden under the pillow. I smile my evil smile, and he can't hold himself back to kiss me and touch my breasts, not romantically but sex-madly, he wanted to possess the female body and he wasn't bad looking for that, but he just isn't the type of guy I want to plan my murders with. So while kissing, he closes his eyes and cumming.

Slowly I reach for the knife, my legs are pushing him closer to me and he presses his chest onto my little tits, wanting to feel my nipples arousing. My hands grab the knife and I pull it out of its hiding. Still continuing the kiss, Marc doesn't open his eyes, his fatal flaw.

I love to describe the moment when he _does_ open his eyes, opening them wide and I can see the pain and the surprise in them, when I stabbed the knife deep in his back, cutting his skin open and allowing the red blood flowing out of the wound.

He does not scream but he breathes more heavily, he wants to yell in pain, I stab the knife into his chest and the warm blood first trickles down on my skin, then it sprays out of the wound on me.

"Why?" Marc whispers with blood dripping out of his mouth and slowly he falls down on me. I press him on me, the last time I can hug him and then I push him away from me.

I'm full of blood so first I'm going to the bath to take a deep and warm shower. It feels good how the red liquid runs down my skin and gathers on the ground, being washed away by the water.

A good start for the day, I think and start drying my hair and dressing with black jeans, a black top and another black blouse.

* * *

It was a new day for Alex and somehow he looked forward going to school. He wanted to give his life a chance and tried to make new friends. He was well accepted although he had great effort fitting in.

He took his school bag and together with Keith they walked out of the building. It was when he spotted a suspicious man when Alex' mood went down. He looked around and noticed that this particular man was wearing a gun and listening to something, staring over at Alex, then suddenly looking away.

He sighed. Mrs. Jones would never leave him on his own, at least not as long as they haven't heard anything about his half-sister yet.

Arriving at school, he met his friends, they exchanged latest news and Alex saw the same man and hoped this wasn't the best MI6 had to offer. But he hadn't seen any spy or shadow the past few days and decided to dig deeper.

He told his friends he needed to see a man about a dog and left. He went to the bathroom and waited until it was empty to make a call.

"I wondered when you would call, Alex," Mrs Jones greeted him to his surprise.

"Really? Then tell me why I'm observed again?"

"It's just a new measurement for security. You said Marc had been a spy. NCIS found him in Autopsy this morning. We suspect...well, Alex. Who else should have done this. She's still here and we need to protect you."

"As much as I have heard about her, nothing can protect me from her," Alex mentioned and looked at his watch. He was too late for classes, again.

"We're doing our best and I promise you, within the end of the week, your sister will be in Alaska again."

With that she hung up her phone and Alex hurried back to his class room where he silently entered, apologized and searched his chair. The teacher gave him an angry look but nothing more and Alex was ready to focus on some American history.

* * *

After the break a single lesson Maths followed and after that, Spanish lessons with Mr Fernandez who liked Alex for speaking so fluently and using a Spanish accent, not Mexican. But sometimes, it was boring and Alex stared at the blackboard where his teacher was writing down all tenses of subjuntivo which Alex already knew perfectly well.

He was distracted a summing noise and realized it was his mobile phone. He looked around and was glad Mr. Fernandez hadn't noticed. Mobiles were forbidden during lessons and he didn't want to lose his.

But he was curious and picked it up. Under the table he saw that he'd received a new short message and opened it.

"Now in science section. Jones" he read.

The phone number was unknown but if it really was Mrs. Jones she seemed to having either found out something about the location of his sister or she was about to tell Alex that he had to move again. However, he asked his teacher if he may go to toilet and left the classroom.

Alex walked down the corridor to the classrooms where science was taught. It was darker here, there were no windows and somebody must have turned off the lights. He searched for the switch but funnily it didn't work out.

"This is the moment when you should get suspicious," a voice suddenly said and in shock Alex turned around. He stumbled backward facing himself far too close with his psychopathic half-sister.

"You know on which situation this reminds me? I read about your final battle with Julius, in that school and how he turned up several months later. But believe me Alex," she came closer and Alex stepped back again, "when I am finished with you, I have no reason to turn up again." She whispered and her voice was cold, determined and already sounded mean itself.

Alex didn't doubt she wanted to make her threat come true and suddenly stopped, not anymore stepping away.

"You're scared of me, Alex. Why?" she asked in a sweet voice, her face was far too close to his, for his gust.

"I think we already had this discussion," he answered drily.

"Ahh, what you read about me was the conclusion that I'm a little, mean, evil, psychopathic girl who will do anything to kill you, right?"

Alex nodded uncertain. "Listen, Alex. You don't belong into a prison, but into a psychiatry," he said but she only laughed madly at him. "You're crazy! You grew up with a bunch of mad men in a maximum-security prison and they told you nothing but hatred and disgust for any human," he first shouted, the realized they were at school with thin walls and he went to whispering again.

"Then why don't you kill me, why don't you send me back to prison?" she asks and Alex had to admit that her dark-blue eyes made him feel very uncomfortable and uneasy.

To be honest, he didn't know an answer. After all, she was his half-sister. Although he had killed Julius, he had just been a clone, not someone who had been a _real_ relative.

"Alex, listen," he started and tried to stay calm. He knew she could kill him within a second. "I'm your brother and you're my sister. You grew up in the wrong environment. I believe that you can do much better thank you think."

She laughed her insane laughter. "Ah, you think just because our DNA may be the same, we've got something in common? Since I learnt about you, I wanted to kill you. Not because of the same motivation Julius had had. I'm not jealous on you, you have had a family and believe me, I am glad I never had one.

Because like that, nobody can hurt me. Isn't it so? Your mummy died, our father was killed, our uncle was murdered and finally your housekeeper Jack became victim of an evil game played by your worst enemy...I have nothing to lose because I never had anything. Something you can't understand..."

"You're disgusting," he hissed and suddenly saw a creature he could never believe himself to be related with.

This made her only smile. "Alex, you've experienced so much. By now, you must know that there exists such thing as pure evil and I think I impersonate that one very well, don't I?"

That was the moment when he had enough. His right hand became a fist and without thinking, he pushed it as quickly as he could toward her face. But she was faster than he had expected. She ducked away and stepped aside.

"Oh, I expected you be faster," she laughed at him and before he could answer, he kicked his feet forward, left, right, left, she kicked his legs away again, turned around, avoided another hit by his right, left hand, he could sense her hand on his waist and in the next moment he saw the world turning upside down and he lied on the floor.

He looked up and recognized a hand. Without a smile of joy for his misfortune, she stared at him. He grabbed her hand and she pulled him up again. Waiting a second before she moved again, Alex was surprised how she had learned such fine martial arts and she was moving so fast that he had difficulties following her hands and legs.

He sensed them however, every kick hurt to his leg and they were using the whole space of the corridor. After something that seemed to be eternity or rather twenty seconds, he had figured out that even she must had a weakness and recognized that she was fast and flexible, but not as strong as her muscles may let him believe.

He stepped forward and she backwards, both still pushing away each other's hand and he already felt blood trickling out of a wound on his forehand, seeing that also she had something red shimmering on her face, and he noticed that he must have hit her at least twice.

A strong forehand hit, she ducked away and he wanted to start a kick with his left leg but before he could even reach her position, she had turned around, taken two or three steps before reaching the wall and in slow motion he saw her jumping upward the wall as if there was no gravity, turned around over his head, remembering to Matrix style of the first Kung Fu battle in the first movie and she landed on her feet, face against the wall,

she turned around and leaned forwards, bended down and standing on her left foot, Alex saw the right food moving towards him, behind her back and he stumbled against the wall, being kicked into his face like the guard by Trinity in Reloaded.

He sunk down and realized that he could get up once more but just looked at her sister who stood there, just staring back.

"I don't want to fight you," he said and she squatted down in front of him. It was a wonder that nobody has come out of their classrooms yet to see what that noises had come from.

"You know, Alex...since I read about you I had one goal: Eliminate you. You're a damned pain in the ass, fighting heroically evil, thinking you're a smart-ass and child-version of James Bond. But you know what, you're not.

And neither am I a super villain, battling the good and trying to rule the world. The world is not enough, Alex, not for us two. I don't want to join any terrorist group, become an assassin for any political problems some governments want. I just want to be myself.

I want to kill who I want to kill, I want to fuck who I want to fuck and what I don't want not a bit, is to share this wide world with you. You're the last member of my family and as long as you live I'll be hunted."

"You will always be hunted. You're a criminal!" she shouted half-loud.

She smiled again. "I know, Alex. You aren't the first one who told me: Nearly every psychiatrist, every guard in the prison, Mr Blunt, all of them told me I'm a mad woman, I'm insane, cruel, inhuman, have no emotions, am psychopathic and neither know pity nor mercy. And they're right. I'm a being without feeling, I don't even dare to say human. But you know whose fault it is?"

"Blunt used us both. We should show him that we're not his toys. But not that way," Alex whispered. He felt how much she had beaten him up, his face seemed swollen and he felt blood running down his skin. "Do you want to kill me or don't you?"

She looked at him for a while, it seemed as if she hesitated, not knowing what would happen when her final task was done. What should she do after that? Killing Alex had been her greatest desire and when she fulfilled it, what aim was left then in her life, any motivation to live?

He knew she was thinking that and he whispered: "You kill me. What then?" He stared at her, waiting for the judge to decide. But had judgement day come already for the seventeen years old ex-spy?

* * *

It was Mrs Jones turn to enter the corridor first. When Alex' guard hadn't responded and been found dead in his car, she had directly send a special command into the school. Everyone had to stay in classes and it was clear that if not soon an explanation followed, panic was about to erupt.

Mrs Jones stopped immediately. Light was still not turned on but what she saw, shocked her deep down to her bones. There were two shadows in the corridor, none moving.

One lay on the floor, the other one stood in front of it, head hung down, staring on the dead one. Mrs Jones came closer and had the urgent impulse to vomit. What she saw made her last meal come up to say hello.

The body on the floor was unrecognizable. Blood was spread around one meter around it, the wall was coloured reddish and the whole body was sliced open. She could see the content of the stomach, the single organs, anything until there were the white bones. The legs and feet were the same, cut open and a huge puddle of blood indicated the hurt the dead one must have endured.

"Oh my god," she muttered staring at the head and not believing what she saw. I seemed as if parts of the face were bitten away, the rest cut open, a Joker smile on the face due to the Glasgow method, slicing the mouth open with a knife.

The neck was opened as well, parts of the skin hanging down loosely on the body.

When she finally managed to look away from the body, she realized that the other person hadn't moved yet. Suddenly, the shadow moved the head, looking at Mrs. Jones.

"Why did you do that?" the MI6 agent asked with a trembling voice.

"I had to. My mission is accomplished. Take me back and hide me from the world," the girl answered. No feeling, no joy, no happiness, no emotion neither in her face nor her voice. She was serious and somehow she looked sad.

"You didn't want to do that, Alex."

"He was my brother. I needed to do that," she answered quickly.

"But you didn't want to..."

"I enjoyed it. As long as I don't have another destination, you can bring me back to Alaska. Hide me from the world, I'm too dangerous for it."

"You want to be locked away for the rest of your life?" Mrs Jones asked uneasily.

"When I will be needed or when I will need something, believe me, Tulip, I will find a way to escape," Alexandra said and moved towards the agent.

"How did you do last time?"

"Sleep with a guard. It's always the solution and it works with all men...we both know that..."

Mrs Jones didn't respond to that but pulled out her handcuffs. Somehow she felt pleased to put them on her but then she turned her face again to the girl.

"You killed Alex. I really liked him, you know."

"I do. And he was valuable for Alan. That's a reason why I had to kill him."

"What is it between you and Alan?" Mrs Jones asked confused.

"You should ask him that yourself," she answered and to all further questions, she didn't answer.

She kept silence and Mrs Jones wondered what was really the reason for her to kill Alex, she didn't seem to be a person who murdered for personal reason, for joy and happiness and chaos only. And then she mentioned Mr Blunt.

Why had he wanted Mrs Jones to visit that woman in Alaska, why hadn't _he_ returned a second time...or had they met more often?

* * *

Without asking any further Mr Blunt had granted Mrs Jones to accompany personally the girl and the two guards to the prison. Alex hadn't said a single word when she was interrogated at Police in Washington by both a detective and Mrs Jones. So after a long video conference between Mr Blunt, a FBI director and a CIA deputy, it was decided to bring Alex back to maximum-security prison in North Alaska where actually only men were allowed to.

They used a private plane for crossing Canada and the two guards had already fallen asleep after such a long journey. Mrs Jones looked up from her book and regarded the girl for a while who was staring out of the window.

Seeing her like this, you wouldn't believe her being one of the most dangerous people she had ever met – and Mrs. Jones has met a lot.

"You really want to go back?" she dared to ask.

Alex turned her head and faced the MI6 agent. "Why do you think so?" she asked seriously, her eye brows shortly twitching, perhaps reminding her to the bad time she has spent in prison, perhaps remembering the good times she has spent there.

"You could have run away...after you killed Alex. But you waited for us," Mrs Jones explained confused. "You wanted to get caught. You knew we would send you back there."

The young woman didn't respond but looked down.

"If you wanted to send a message...we would have know that it was you without you waiting."

"I think it's better for the world that I stay locked up..." she answered.

"You had your freedom. You could have gone everywhere you wanted?" Mrs Jones didn't understand that. Everyone wanted to be free and she had had the possibility to lead a life that she had most probably only dreamed of in her cell.

"Freedom for what? I would have become a drug dealer or an assassin. Always on the run." She still didn't look up. "When I want to be free, and the time will come, I know how to break out. I don't plan to spend the rest of my life...locked up with...a crowd of paedophiles and psychopaths, like it's expressed so kindly."

"You don't want to go back, do you?"

"You have no idea how it is in there. I'm nothing worth."

"Then how could you survive? You must have fought strongly."

"I was the only woman in there, my only task was being their sex object and toy."

Suddenly she looked directly into Mrs Jones eyes and the grief but also emotionless stare made her feel uneasy and uncomfortable. "Like I said, I'll perhaps gather some friends and connection for a few months. And then I'll be out again."

"You seem to be very confident. How did you manage last time?"

"McCain helped me and I slept with a guard."

"It won't be that easy next time."

"I have a plan B."

"Ah," Mrs Jones said and sighed. There was silence for a moment.

"What is it between you and Mr Blunt?" she asked and realized that they were already breaking through the clouds and soon landing on the little airport she had already hated last time.

Mrs Jones thought she could have seen a little twitch of a smile in the girl's face.

"Did you know he was married?"

"Yes." Something told her that Alex had already known that Mrs. Jones had been aware of this fact.

"You knew about their daughter?"

"No...he has a child?"

Alex nodded. "This time wasn't the first time I broke out. After I had found out my true identity and origin, I wanted to get to know the man whose fault it all was.

Mr Blunt had sent my father to this undercover mission, allowed my mother to carry out my child although I believe he wanted her to die in prison before I was born. Then he arranged everything so that nobody ever found out about me, that my father's wife would never find out."

"You visited him?"

"Yes," she remembered that memory. "I came to London and for the first time, I met him personally. I surprised him in his living room when he came home after work. Her mother and daughter came back later and he had sent them upstairs so that we were alone.

And we talked. About John, about his work, about my mother who had already been deceased, about why for god's sake I had to live. And then he told me that I should survive, and endure a slow death. He is so emotionless, you know that?"

Mrs Jones nodded slightly. She feared the worst and hoped that she was wrong.

"Then I started talking about his family and that was his weakness. I knew I had to show him how it feels to lose family. I knocked him off very quickly, ran upstairs-"

"You killed his daughter?"

Alex nodded, staring out of the window and Mrs Jones detected a little smile on her face. "Her mother didn't see it, with two kicks she was unconscious. Two days later I surrendered and was arrested. I wanted to see Mr Blunt again and how he had reacted to it. He was the one interrogating me but the only thing he did was staring at me for two full hours. It felt so good."

She sighed, the agent couldn't decide if it was a good memory to her or just a sigh for tragedy that happens in life. "Blunt told me he would return one day. And he did about three years ago, around Alex' first mission. He told me his wife had forgiven him for bringing them into such a danger because of his job.

But he still seemed unhappy, I understood that. It was the first time, he admitted emotion and that love made weak. I don't have such weakness although I regret it sometimes...I know you don't believe me that. However, I promised him that I could make him stronger..."

Suddenly she looked up. "When you return to London, please greet him from me."

"What do you mean?" Mrs Jones asked curiously. That made her feel nervous. "Why? What do you plan? Alex! Alexandra! Is that a threat?" she shouted and noticed that the two guards have awaken.

But Alex didn't answer, she continued looking outside and regarding the plane landing in Northern Alaska, the coldest US-region. And whatever Jones tried, how much she shouted, the girl didn't speak a single word anymore.

* * *

It was late night and dark outside when Mrs Jones' plane landed in London. It rained outside and it was typical Britain-cold. A black limousine awaited her at the airport entrance and an agent put her trolley into the rear trunk.

She nodded thanks and entered. Surprised she was frozen for a second when she encountered Mr Blunt on the backseat. She sat down next to him, the car started driving and she remembered what Alexandra had told her.

"How was your mission?" he asked severely.

"You read my report," she answered shortly and didn't dare to look at him. She had whined on the plane and didn't want him to know.

"You have cried," he stated neutrally and she cursed herself.

"Alex died, Alan! He was just a boy!"

"We should have locked up that half-sister better."

"How's your wife?" Mrs Jones asked suddenly and changed topic.

"What?"

Was this an emotional reaction in his eyes?, Mrs Jones wondered.

"She...died, yesterday," he answered uneasily and stared straight ahead.

"What?" Mrs Jones whispered and her skin was burning. She should have known, she could have warned him. "How?"

"An assassin. We caught him but he committed suicide before we could ask who he worked for."

"Any idea?" she asked and observed his reaction.

"No," he answered but Mrs Jones knew better. For the first time in her life, she wanted nothing more than revenge.

She didn't even know why by herself. Alan wasn't that close to her, but Alex had been indeed. She had felt a bit like a mother for him and this girl eliminated him. And she killed Mr Blunt's daughter, ordered the murder of his wife.

She was pure evil. She was locked up by now, but she threatened to break out again. Mrs Jones decided that she needed to be faster, get rid of the most dangerous woman the world has ever born.

And now it was Mrs Jones who planned to return. Unfortunately, she didn't know yet that she would be too late and so she drove on through the dark and dangerous, cold night.

**Please give me a review and a few of your thoughts to this final...or isn't it a final yet?**

**PS: I'm sorry for leaving the 'male' Alex-character die.**


	11. The Beginning of the End

**Yeah, I decided to continue this story and I already got a plot in my mind. Don't be confused, just read on. And then look out for a story most probably called 'A well Hidden Secret II'.**

**This will then be the follow-up and no crossover, but a pure Alex Rider story. So if you're here because of the NCIS part, would you please read on anyway? You don't need to know Alex Rider that much. And when you're disappointed because the first part didn't end like you hoped, please give the second part a chance.**

**So PLEASE just read and then comment so that I know what I can do this time better. I haven't made any great decisions yet about the story, just know the basics, therefore it's not too late to leave a review.**

I woke up and the first time I looked at the alarm clock was around seven o'clock. I was surprised that I had managed to sleep for more than four hours at once and sat straight up. Slowly I felt around on the floor for my slip and bra.

I found them and silently put them on.

"You already going?" I heard a soft and tired voice next to me.

"I have to," I mutter but leaned back into the bed to give her another long and romantic kiss.

"C'mon, stay at least for half an hour," she begs but I turn on the lights for finding my trousers. "Ten minutes," is her next offer but I only laugh while crawling onto her, but just to find my black top and blouse on the other side of the double-bed.

I put them on and now lying onto her I make-out once more. "How was I?" I ask then and she touches my cheek.

"Perfect," she answers and I get up.

"Hey, that's unfair," she protests and I hesitate a second if I should turn back or not. Finally, I sit down on the edge of the bed and she comes from behind. Since when have I become so indecisive?

I sighed heavily and turned around. She directly jumped on me, trying to open my blouse again. But I put her hands away and pushed her down from me.

"What's up?" she asked.

I didn't answer but my hands were rushing forward, grabbing her neck strongly.

"What?" she coughed and wanted to scream but she couldn't.

In the spare light I saw her face becoming red, such a beautiful color. I smiled while her eyes were becoming weaker and weaker. Finally, she didn't struggle anymore and sank down back on the bed.

I lay next to her, just staring to the body next to me. She's unconscious. I close my eyes and enjoy the moment, I fully relax and feel how life is coming back to me. Then, with a short movement, I break her neck.

I don't know why, but I like doing this: first strangulating, then breaking the neck. It's efficient…and so personal. It shows me the true nature of my victims.

After a moment, I decide to get up at last and without turning back, I walk out of the room. I feel free. I'm not scared of leaving any DNA traces as they're already all aware of that I'm out. I jump down the stairs and leave the skyscraper.

I see the sun already being up. It's late, I should go 'into hiding' again. As if it were dangerous for me being outside. Nobody suspected me here, anyway. I'm standing in the mid of somewhere New York Bronx.

Even if anybody knew where I was, I bet they wouldn't send any cop down here. So it's my turn to see them again. I take my newly stolen car, a cheap one and drive to where I reside currently. Here in Bronx, nobody asks any questions and I have my privacy.

I run the stairs up of the high-rise where surprisingly nearly all flats are lived-in and already smell the fetor of piss, mildew and alcohol. I open the door, it was hard enough finding one with a working lock and close it behind me.

"You're early," I hear and enter the tiny bedroom.

"Surprised?" I ask and sit down on the bed.

He smiles at me. "She wasn't that good, was she?"

"Yes, she was. I slept more than four hours at once."

"Then you must have been totally crocked," he answers and passes me his joint.

I drag deeply and grind it. "I wasn't," I defend myself and crawl over to him.

Like Marc, he thinks he is the man for me, the only one whose using the other one. I smile and kiss him. He's taking me harder and less gentle than Marc, if that's even possible. He's not that evil but less charming and interested in small talk.

He's direct and mean enough for me, but I only booked one flight. "Hey, you didn't wait the whole night for me, did you? _(I was originally planning to call him Casey for 'Casey Biggs', an American actor, but then realized I needed to use this figure elsewhere. And yes, I have a crush on Cardassians [a species in Star Trek])_" I tease him. He doesn't even bother to smile but kisses me, not romantically, but as he had the needs to take me once more. I don't complain, let him have fun for his final time.

When I'm finished with him, I pack my clothes. Nobody's going to find his corpse so soon, although I think soon one's going to notice the smell of the rotting skin and discover the bedroom where blood is everywhere, the bed, the floor, the walls.

I've had a shower already and feel most refreshed. It's time for me to go, I've let him on his own for too long and I need to remind him on his former life and what he's become through me.

* * *

Mrs. Jones felt that it was a mistake. No, she didn't feel it, she knew it. She had sworn herself revenge and she needed to see her once more. She yet didn't have a plan how to kill her but she'd think of something.

Even if it meant the end of her career. But how should they charge her with a murder on a person that doesn't even exist. She felt being on the safe side. Unfortunately, she wasn't that sure anymore after a ten hours flight and a three hours drive.

Passing these walls for the second times made her feel uneasy. She was glad that when Alex had been brought back to prison, Mrs. Jones hadn't needed to accompany her to the gates.

She talked to the guard at the only entrance. "Alex? Alexandra Rider, the girl? She isn't here."

"What? Are you joking?" Mrs. Jones asked in disbelief. "This isn't funny at all."

"No, I'm not. I already spoke to you guys a hundred of times before. She broke out again, that little bitch. That's the third time, ya know!" Mrs. Jones couldn't move, she didn't feel anything. "With whom did you speak?"

"I don't know, I think his name was Blunt or something like that," the guard answered. Interiorly, something was pulling her down to earth.

She should have told her boss before she went back here. Now, this trip was of no earthly use. "How?" she managed to ask. Her legs weren't stable enough anymore to hold her body.

"We don't know. One night she was there, the next day, she missed the routine control. The inmates didn't say a word, they supported her all the time. We intensified punishment and treatment but it didn't work. A day later or so, one of our guards was killed. We couldn't determine which prisoner it was, but the guard had obviously been corrupt. With conditions like that, it isn't difficult for a charming girl like her to break out."

"Charming?" Mrs. Jones asked in disbelief. But before she could finally faint, she walked back to her car, drove about twenty miles and then breathed again. She leaned back and closed her eyes. "Alexandra," she muttered silently.

"I will find you. And I will kill you for all you did. For Alan. And for Alex. I promise you that."

With that words, she drove against the sundown and cursed herself and the damned world she was living in.

**First of all, please look out for the new story. Don't miss it. It may contain some unexpected changes ;) muahahahaha**

**Second, would you please review? ;DD It really helps me :)**


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